The Los Angeles Project

I am PMSing right now. Something awful. Plus my dumb ass decided to get hot chocolate this morning instead of coffee, big mistake. Therefore, the bitterness that is usually present in this post will be turned up a notch. You have been warned.

I had a panic attack last night. Most of the time I have them in my sleep, to the point where they wake me up out of sleep. And I can't go back to sleep. It's not a pleasant experience.

Why did I have a panic attack you ask? Because I am the spawn of some of the most meticulous, anal retentive, semi-negative, uncomfortably direct to the point people on earth. If you have hopes and dreams? Forget about it. They won't shoot down your hopes and dreams, but they will list every single possible reason known to man as to why your reasoning is completely unrealistic.

Make sense? If not, Here's a little taste of what my life has been like.

I am not good at standardized tests, mostly because I think they're retarded. If I take one, my score is going to be average to slightly above average. So imagine what happened when I took the ACT junior year of high school. No studying, was late, only took it because I had to, plus my attention span isn't the greatest. Got a 21. Happy. Good enough to get me into a decent school. Stress relieved.

My parents got wind of the score. Even though I got into college, and had a decent GPA, I absolutely have to take it over. The main reasoning? Because my sister got a 22.

Believe me, this wasn't a mild suggestion, I mean they made me take it over. Who gives a shit that I was satisfied and my future was secured. They'll be damned if they have two children walking around with two different ACT scores. Parents like them are unfit.

Fast forward to age 27, I'm talking to my sister and telling her my plans. Understandably, she has concerns, so a natural question would be, "What if this doesn't work out, what will you do then?". Honestly, live homeless on the streets of LA and not tell my parents. But of course I didn't say that.

But she could have just left it there, but no it went to this. "Well you know, you probably need to have a backup city, and start thinking about going there." Keep in mind, my sister knows I want to be an actress, so there really is no other city. Where the hell does she want me to go, Vancouver?

My point is, she had a valid point, but perhaps she should save it for when I'm not so hopeful.
My replacement starts in January, I have move dates, I'm screwed if I have to come back. Hence, my panic attack last night.

Its a little to early to start putting in resumes (I'm leaving in February), so no job prospects have come to fruition, and money is going to be tighter than expected due to my car fucking up every five minutes, and all I have to depend on is me.

(This will be continued by the way, not continuously but intermittently, pray for me)